


Lil Asskicker

by Higgystar



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 07:27:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2220648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higgystar/pseuds/Higgystar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merle finds out what Daryl calls Judith.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lil Asskicker

The first time he’d been in prison had been for possession. A few months locked away in the big pen and getting to know how the system worked. Merle had hated every second of it, but he learnt how things worked, he learnt how to get by, he got tougher, he fought harder and same as his life on the outside, he learnt how to survive.

Thing is, everyone acted tough in prison, no one has a heart, everyone’s a badass and tough as nails. Until the cells were locked, the lights were off and the big bad men crumbled down to the weak, emotionally driven people that they really were. He’d listen in the darkness as men would pray for their children’s health, some would think of their wives and cry at being apart from them, some even dreamt of their mothers and the hope of getting to be home for Christmas. Merle wasn’t like that, everyone thought he was a heartless bastard but the truth was, he just kept his thoughts to himself.

He didn’t think of home, or the freedom of the outside, or of his useless parents or let his mind linger over any regrets that he was meant to have. Instead he’d simply lay back and let his mind flick through memories that he pretended not to have anymore. The only person he’d ever given a shit about was Daryl and even when it came to his little brother, good memories were few and far between. But there is one that comes to the front of his mind when he’s trying to sleep.

Daryl’s only a toddler, still in diapers, still sucking on his thumb and not able to do much of anything else than babble and get in the way. Of course that meant it was Merle’s job to get him out of the way and prevent the baby from pissing off his dad even more than usual whilst making sure his mom got enough rest to survive another day. So most days he ends up dragging Daryl outside, letting him play in the dirt and explore the woods whilst he pretends not to wish for a different life. Most kids his age are out playing, starting to get crushes on girls and drinking cold cans of coke on the front lawn with friends. Instead he’s looking after his baby brother and avoiding going home too early.

He remembers sitting on the forest floor, picking at sticks, whittling arrows, and wishing that he was old enough to take the hunting rifle and go snag something for himself. Instead he’s here, watching Daryl dig up insects and laugh as they scramble for cover from the sunlight. It’s amazing how something so simple can amuse the baby but so long as Daryl’s not crying he doesn’t care. His baby brother grabs at the bugs, smacking at the dirt and trying to pinch them up in his chubby fingers. Merle watches as he snags up a fire ant and immediately he hisses a little. “Wouldn’t do that if I were you Daryl.”

His brother looks up at his name, peering at him in question before giving a sharp cry as the fire ant stings him. Immediately Daryl drops it, peering at the red mark on his fingertip before scowling down at the dirt the ant is scurrying around in. Merle watches with a bark of a laugh as Daryl stomps on the thing with his bare foot, grinding the ant’s corpse into the ground before waddling over to him with his injured finger outstretched. “Bad bug!” His brother tells him, waving his sore finger in Merle’s face with a small whine.

“Yeah bad bug.” Merle smirks, letting Daryl sit in his lap and rubbing over the red mark on his finger. Its not too bad, just a little bug bite, nothing Daryl’s not had before, and besides so long as he’s not crying Merle’s not bothered. “You got him though didn’t you? You’re a right little ass kicker aren’t you?” Sure Daryl was too young to really understand him, but he was someone to talk to all the same.

“Lil adidder.” Daryl hums to him, giggling a little and bouncing in his lap. “A-didder! A-didder!”

“No you idiot, I said lil ass kicker. Ass. Kick. Er.” He explains and gets nothing more than a giggle in reply. Daryl bounces harder, grins up at him around his sore finger and laughs every time he says Asskicker for the rest of that day. Then the rest of the week. And soon enough it just becomes another nickname that Daryl responds to between the insults from their father. It’s stupid. It’s such a little thing but every time he said it over the years, it made Daryl smile and sometimes that made it all worth it.

So Merle hangs on to the memory, even if it’s small and insignificant. Even if over the years it’s been forgotten and lost, it’s still the thing that gets him through his first visit to prison. So it’s no surprise that walking in through the fences and gates of the West Georgia Correctional Facility feels a little like walking back into jail for the first time. Still least there weren’t so many Officers of the law anymore, only Officer friendly and his crew of merry misfits. Honestly he hates himself for giving in and following Daryl so easily, but what else was he going to do? Survive on his own with one hand?

Options were limited nowadays and maybe a part of himself felt like he maybe owed it to Daryl to follow him for once. Didn’t mean he had to like it, just meant he had to bear it. So he does his best to bite his tongue, he stays in the cell they give him and keeps himself quiet for the first few hours but then he hears the unmistakeable sound of a baby crying. Christ it’s a sound he hasn’t heard in years, but it still makes a part of him want to help.

That’s not why he gets up. He only goes to find the source to yell at someone else to sort it out. It’s not his job anymore to deal with babies and he’d be damned if he was gonna help out with this one. The walkways are easy enough to navigate and besides the cries make it easy to locate the hub of the group. A few of them are gathered around the centre table including his brother and he heads down when he finds the little blonde girl cradling a still squalling infant. If the pink blanket is anything to go by it’s a girl and Christ he just needs it to shut up for a minute.

Before he can start hollering he’s watching as to his surprise, Daryl takes the baby in his arms and cradles the damned thing before grabbing a newly made bottle and pressing it to her mouth. She stops immediately, suckling on the teat with small content noises and hushing her cries to small gurgles. It’s a sight he’d never thought he’d see in his life, his baby brother cradling a baby as if he knew exactly what he was doing with it. A part of him wants to ask if he’d gone and gotten himself a kid, but he knows that can’t be true, Daryl would have at least said something.

“She okay?” And Officer friendly is on the scene, looking panicked and reaching out a hand to press over the baby girl’s body. So it’s his, Merle knows that look, the look of a father caring for their child. It’s a look he remembers wishing he had seen when he was a kid. Shaking his head and little he ignores the sickeningly sweet scene before him and it’s only when he looks away that he notices the box on the table.

He can’t help but smirk when he sees what’s written on the side, the writing isn’t familiar but the words are and despite the heart and swirls decorating it, he knows there’s only one person that could have chosen such a title. Lil Asskicker. It’s a nickname he hasn’t thought of in years, but within seconds of being exposed to it once more all the memories come rushing back to him. Merle can remember Daryl’s giggles as a toddler, when his baby brother had tried to copy the word with his limited abilities and how it had been something between them before being lost through the years.

“Thought you’d forgotten.” He murmurs practically to himself, reaching out with his remaining hand to trace over the scrawled letters on the side of the box. Honestly he hadn’t remembered the nickname until he’d seen it before him here, so how had Daryl remembered enough to name Officer Friendly’s brat after his own nickname?

“It’s what Daryl called her before she had a name.” Rick Grimes tells him, taking his daughter from Daryl’s arms, holding her close and rocking her lightly when she’s finished feeding. The baby is quiet at least and Merle watches as his brother peers at him questioningly.

Giving a small smirk he gestures to the box again. “Oh I know exactly who came up with that name for her.” He explains, thinking of squished bugs, stubborn toddlers and words too complex for his baby brother to verbalise back then.

“What you talking about Merle?” Daryl asks, looking confused, annoyed by his presence but not willing to tell him to leave. Maybe he’s afraid he’ll take it too literally and take off again, or maybe Merle just wants him to worry like that.

Merle gives a small lopsided shrug, tapping the side of the box before talking, mainly musing to himself instead of answering his brother. “I thought you were too young to remember.” He tells him and Daryl is starting to look frustrated.

“Remember what?” His brother huffs a little, ever the younger sibling, stubborn, wanting and always asking questions. It shouldn’t be as amusing as it is, but all the same Merle finds himself not wanting to give the answer. Not with this, not with something that could still only remain his if he wanted it to.

“Doesn’t matter.” He shakes him off, starting to walk away before pointing back to the baby in the cop’s arms. “Just watch out for her. If there’s one thing I know it’s that Lil Asskickers tend to grow into the biggest badasses around.” Laughing a little he heads back to his cell, fully aware that he’s leaving a frustrated Daryl behind him and a confused Rick. Still he didn’t have to say anything he didn’t want to, and how would the knowledge help anybody?

Remembering Daryl being his own Lil Asskicker was a memory he kept to himself, something for him and him alone to use when he needs to get through the tough nights. Since the end of the world there’s been more of them than not, and now he recalled the memories properly he didn’t intend to share. Besides, if it was something he had used to get him through his first time in prison before, why bother breaking tradition? Might as well enjoy the memories whilst he could. 


End file.
